Mayday Mayday A Frank Carter Fanfic
by blackxheartxqueen
Summary: What happens when a high class model is thrown into the life of a London hooligan?
1. Chapter 1

I hate parties. Really, truly honestly hate them. Between the large amount of people, in a confined space, plus a lot of drugs, i just detest them. Being here tonight was not my choice, oh no. it was the work of my agent, Ruby. Boy she was gonna get it when i went back to the office. 

Currently, i was on a very expensive chair in the penthouse of The Hotel Clairemont, playground of New Yorks richest, and most famous. The hotel itself was a symbol of luxury in its purest form, from the satin linens on every bed, to the tiffany lamp that illuminated the small area where i was sitting. But here, little luxury was able to be seen through the mess of stumbling, loud mob of people. 

Tonight's party was being hosted by some thuggish types, no doubt the source of all the alchohol. People had been passing me all night. Occasionally, a passerby would give me a good stare. I was supposed to be out there, making an image for myself. What bullshit. Half the people here had never seen me, and all of them were too drunken to care. Night had fallen, all to slowly. 

I sighed and stood up, planning on hiding out on the balcony. I had barely taken a step, when out of nowhere an abrasive, crashing sound resonated through the room. I winced, turning slowly to see  two young men, both about my age, broken bottles in hand, ready and aching for a fight. One of the men, bulky and very drunk, stumbled toward the other menacingly. The other, more slender, with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes, appeared sober and extremely irritated.

Seconds later, the larger one lunged toward the smaller guy, and the room erupted into an all to small box of screams and chaos. Women ran for the door, some men tried to get in on the fight, others were taking bottles of booze and following the women. All the sudden movement badly disoriented me. A glass bottled flew at the wall above me and shattered. Goddamn Ruby, why me. I moved quickly with the crowd, heading for the exit. My head started pounding from all the chaos. Everyone was pushing and shoving, a few people were trampled. Since when did these doors get so small? Suddenly, a crushing sensation overwhelmed my back, no doubt doueto the large girl behind me, trying frantically to get out. Yeah, Ruby would really get it for this one. 

Eventually, I burst out into the hallway, and was able to freely breathe again. Sounds from the fight were eminating through the walls. The narrow hallway was better than the room, but was still crowded none the less. I walked toward the elevator, away from most of the people. The hall was dimly lit, just enough so i could see the light blue panels alternating through the building. As i walked, the sounds faded and died. It was much brighter here, in comparison with the dark, smoky penthouse.

Finally, the elavator was in view, and i picked up my pace just slightly. As soon as it was in reach, I rang the bell anxiously. All i knew was that I wanted out of here now. If anything, to avoid the police. The elavator took an agonizingly long time to arrive. I waited, wondering how I should get home. When the elevator came,  i practically broke the small button at the bottom of the bronze plate. First floor. i got out and walked into the lobby. it was more calm here, almost sleepy. What time is it anyway? I looked at my watch. Damn almost 3. I stepped onto the street, my heels clicking sharply against the pavement. All at once, i regretted my descision to not invite my brother, Vincent. Normally, the city buzzed with life, but at this hour, only sailors, thugs, and the homeless walked these streets. Definitly not where a young actress should be wandering.

I had eight blocks before i would be home, an easy enough walk, but everything in the city changed after dark. I began my small journey, walking quickly down 135th street. From where i was standing, i couldnt see anyone on the street. Just darkened shops, and an occasional apartment building. Thats when i heard it. The worst, most painful scream i had ever heard. The kind that made you want to turn and run, the kind that was so primal, so raw, you wanted to make it stop by any means possible. I was frozen. Then again it sounded. It was definitly a man, and from what i could tell, he wasnt too far away. 


	2. Chapter 2

Every fiber of my being told me to go, to run. But i went toward it. Almost mezmerized. There, in the allyway. I quickened my step, barely catching myself and stopping at the corner. I peeked around, uncertain of what i would find. I froze, it was him, the redhead from the party. He lied crooked, leaning toward his left. The white shirt he had on at the party was now stained in the worst shade of red. Blood. Off in the distance, a group of men walked into the shadows, their backs toward me and the redhead. As soon as they were gone, i leapt out from behind the wall i was against, and ran swiftly to the redheads side. He was quite handsome, i didnt know how i couldnt have noticed him at the party. His icy blue eyes stared at the wall opposite of us in agony.

"How badly are you hurt?", i spoke softly. His gaze shifted toward me, then to his leg. I followed his stare, to the source of most of the blood. A knife wound. It was big, but quite shallow. Not much of a medic, my mind started racing with what to do. None of the hospitals were taking patients at this hour, and i didnt know any doctors in the district. 

"Where do you live?" i asked.

"just 'round the corner 'ere" His accent was clearly british, and suprised me for a second. I decided to take him to his house, seeing as it was closer than mine. I got him up, for a skinny guy he was pretty heavy, and we began to hobble toward his apartment. I got him to the door, and he handed me his keys slowly. I unlocked it and nearly fell inside. The whole place was a mess of broken bottles and art supplies. 

I brought him toward the couch at the far end of the room, he dropped down suddenly, almost taking me with him. He groaned in pain as he shifted his weight. I went to the powder room to find something to wrap his leg in. Ha! Perfect. A length of gauze lay by the mirror. I returned to his side, and he grabbed the roll from me, almost viciously. I reached out, to help him, but as i did his stare caught me. I lowered my hands and watched patiently instead. He dressed the wound himself, occasionally wincing from the pain. When he was done, he threw the roll at me, and precedded  to roll over on the couch and turn his back to me. I was stunned. After all i just did?! This is what i get? I was furious. 

"Hey! What the hell? Do i get any kind of thanks?". He turned to me and grinned, oddly enough it looked more like a snarl.

"tell you what honey, talk to me in the morning, and well see what i can do". He then turned back to his prior position.

Well, after that, i didnt want to go home for fear of a similar if not worse fate. Nor did i really want to stay here. But given the options, i chose to stay. I looked around the apartment more closely. There wasnt much furniture. The entire place looked like a war zone. Bottles of various kinds of liquor lay haphazardly around the living room. I went to look for a bedroom. The entire place was small. only 3 real rooms. I turned on the light in what i guessed was a bedroom. More broken bottles. A pile of drying canvases lay on his bed. Damnit. I walked back out with one of his pillows. I realized i still didnt know his name. I looked for a spot to lay down on the mess of a floor. Something moved out of the corner of my eye. He was awake, and faced toward me. 

"You know, i dont bite." He grinned. I could tell what he was up to. 

"You know, you could just move those canvases", I retorted. Maybe with a bit too much attitude. But what the hell, i was angry. 

"ah ask the crippled boy why dont ya?" He laughed. I couldnt help but begin to smile a little, despite how much i didnt want to. I sighed and looked him in those eyes.

"Well a lady shouldnt be sleeping anywhere near a boy whose name she dosent know. And thats that". I crossed my arms. Trying my hardest to look serious. He shifted his position a bit more.

"A lady eh? Well if you dont mind, i dont tend to consider women who walk the slums of New York at 3 in the morning ladies" He sat up on his elbow, giving me a look of victory. Unfortunately he was winning. Sleep was overtaking me, and i really didnt want to argue with some Brit hooligan about what a lady is at this hour. I walked toward him slowly, being careful not to get anywhere near the broken glass. He moved in a bit, making room for me. What the hell was I doing? He could be a damned rapist for all i knew. I could be walking toward my death. I sat down next to him anyways, and took off my shoes. The sweet releif of taking off heels after a 15 hour day. i lied down, facing away from him, moving as close as i could to the edge of the couch. Silence ensued for a while, and i was about to knock out, when that accent floated from behind me.

"How old ah you?" I could feel his breath against my neck as he said it.

"24, you?" I barely spoke above a whisper.

"Just turned 25" 

"Whered you come from?"

"A town called Hertfordshire, north of London"

Our back and forth questions went on for way too long. Eventually we both got quieter and made less sense, until the silence came again. I woke up to the sun shining directly into my eyes. I had forgotten about the window above me. Wait, above me? I jolted to conciousness. I had been facing the door when i went to sleep, but i was facing up now, and to my suprise (amongst many other emotions) my face was lying on a mess of red hair. His face was buried in my neck, and somehow, he ended up pressed up against me. I almost fainted. Dear god, what was i doing? My first instinct was to jump up and push him off me, But remembering his leg, i opted against it. I tried to gently nudge him. No response. Damn he was a heavy sleeper. I poked him, prodded him and eventually resorted to just trying to shove him off me. At this, he woke up. he looked at me, then smiled. His eyes looked even better in the sunlight. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Morning love" His raspy voice made me just about die inside. Then i comprehended what he said.

"Where the hell do you think you get off calling me that?" I replied somwhat annoyed. He got up and stepped over me, and began limping toward his makeshift kitchen.

"Aye dont worry, we call all the girls "love" in England" He propped his hand against the wall, and began searching through the mess of bottles on the floor. I got up to go help him, but he noticed me and shot me a bit of a glare.

"Don't you think you should get to a hospital?" I asked as I neared him. He turned.

"What for this?" He pointed to his leg. The blood had soaked through the gauze.  "Look love, see these here?" He then preceded to pull of his shirt. His body was in great shape, and covered in beautiful tattoos. I wanted to touch them, kiss them. I shook the last thought out of my head. Lady's don't kiss hooligan tattoos. Then i noticed. Under all the ink, were small, raised scars, that spoke of a hard bringing up. "Ive been stabbed about 6 times now, this isnt nothin" I was stunned. Growing up where i had, being stabbed was like death. It seemed something so far away, like something you only read about. 

"6 times.." i whispered to myself. He turned back to his task. I looked down at his worn hands. More ink. His knuckles read "blue eyes" and he had some kind of crest on the had he was using to go through the bottles. He was picking them up, swirling em, and putting em back down. They were alll empty. He sighed.

"fan-fuckin tastic" He grunted. I got it now.

"Your drinking already? Its barely 11!" Then i realized what i said. SHIT. Its 11???? I looked at my watch again.

"Ah DAMNIT" I ran to go get my bag, and hurried to put my shoes on. The boy looked at me, puzzled.

"What are ya cursin about miss lady?" He leaned against the wall, looking like a statue. 

"i need to get to my office, i was supposed to be there now."

He looked at me rushing about. Im sure i looked like a fool. My dress was still stained with his blood.

"Ya arent gon tell me your name?" He faked a sad look. I stopped moving for a second, and looked at him.

"Alice."

He was silent for a second, and looked at me kind of crooked. Then his face broke into a smile.

"You can call me Frank." He held out his hand to me. I looked at it, and shook it. I then preceded to get back to my task at hand. 

"Where do you work anyways?" He moved to the other side of me and sat down.

"technically anywhere they want me, but i always have to report to this office" I replied without looking at him. I was afraid i would blush if i did.

"Let me walk you there" 

"Your hurt."

"Im bandaged up all right"

I froze. The idea of this boy, er Frank, walking me through the richest part of town, covered in ink didnt thrill me. Not to mention the press would eat it up. But then i realized what part of town i was currently in. Hell id been out of the papers for a while anyways. I looked at him and smiled, "that would be nice".


End file.
